Dark Souls: The Fall
by eaglescorch
Summary: As the Dark Lord's armies march upon Anor Londo, one knight must be willing to abandon the memories of his old friend to put an end to the onslaught. Experimental One-Shot.


Okay... So I'm really not sure what this is. I've been playing a whole lot of Dark Souls recently and it has a lot of open-ended stuff to leap on, so I figure I'd write a short proof of concept-style story and see what people think. This is just an idea, tell me what you think. I might make an actual story out of this one day.

* * *

The Fall

It is said that as the last embers of the First Flame died out, so did all good in this world. For the Chosen Undead, choosing what he considered his birthright, allowed the flame to die. As his ancestor had given humanity life, he gave it purpose, and reigned as the new lord of the realm. Gwyn, Lord of Cinder, fell at the hands of the Dark Lord, and since that fateful day the sun glows ever dimmer and the fires across the land slowly burn out. The bonfires are all but embers and ashes as the Age of Fire comes to an end and the Age of Dark rolls in.

Or is it the Age of Humanity? Perhaps it is both, perhaps it is neither, but regardless, Lordran is now in hands of the Chosen Undead who after so long wandering without identity has taken a name: Cyrus, Lord of Darkness. Now he reigns over Lordran from the Firelink Shrine, kindling the bonfire to it's greatest form. The Fire Keepers now bow to him, ensuring that his reign would be eternal.

Of course, not all are willing to just lie down and be crushed beneath Cyrus's heel. Some still fight on, even as the Dark consumes the world around them. The fearsome Blades of the Darkmoon stand defiant in the face of this new age, starting an all out war with the Darkwraiths to ensure that the dark was halted in it's tracks. The Princess's Guard, whose eternal vigil over their mistress Gwynevere made them stand defiant in the face of overwhelming odds, began a standoff with the Chaos Servants whose devotion to the one they called the Fair Lady made them a force to be reckoned with. If the Fair Lady willed it, the Chaos Servants obeyed, and right now the Fair Lady willed that the Chaos Servants to fight alongside Cyrus's armies to crush the remnants of the Age of Fire. Finally, the Warriors of Sunlight, who held onto Gwyn's belief in the light of the sun and would die to protect it battled the Gravelord Servants. Once the followers of Nito the Gravelord, they now followed his killer, as the one who can best the power of the Death Soul is truly worthy of their loyalty.

One of the Warriors of Sunlight in particular was dangerously powerful. His name was Solaire, Knight of Astora. With Gwyn's death, he became the champion of the Warriors of Sunlight, and would die before he allowed the sun to be blotted out by the Dark pouring from the Abyss. His hatred of the Dark Lord had grown from a far more personal place. Once upon a time, he was a close friend of Cyrus, having helped him stop the Dragonslayer and Executioner, the Gargoyles of the Undead Church, and even his own former liege, Gwyn. Then, when it seemed that a dream of reigniting the flame was about to be realized, Cyrus flashed a wicked smile and walked away from the flame, abandoning Solaire in the Klin of the First Flame. He watched what remained of the first flame burn out, his own tears falling into the cinders. He vowed then and there to find Thorn again and destroy him, whatever it may cost.

He and several other warriors of sunlight, present as orange and white tinted phantoms throughout the city, stood vigilantly at the annex used to man the bridge that connected the palace to the rest of Anor Londo. Their orders, put simply, were to hold that position at any costs. The Painting Guardians, a faction inside Anor Londo that guarded the entrance to a refuge secluded in another world, were beginning to clear a path so that the Dark Sun Gwyndolin may escape into the refuge, which they would then seal off from the invaders.

_Dark times we live in._ Thought Solaire. It wasn't long ago that the Painting Guardians and the Blades of the Darkmoon were enemies. Now they were seeking the same thing: Survival. His thoughts were ultimately cut short when a barrage of arrows came flying towards the annex.

"Shields up!" He commanded and the company raised their shields and withstood the brunt of the barrage. The fifth one that day by Solaire's count.

"Persistent, aren't they?" Came a voice from behind him. He turned around.

"My good lady. It's good to see you." He said, greeting the Darkmoon Knightess as she approached. The Lady of the Darkling, Darkmoon Knightess, these titles she bore with honor. No one knew her real name anymore, not even her. She had lost it when she vowed to serve Lord Gwyndolin, who gave her title and purpose in exchange for unwavering loyalty. A bargain made and kept for years.

"You as well, Solaire. The Warriors of Sunlight are welcome guests in the golden city." She bowed respectfully. "How goes the fight?"

"Not well." Solaire darkened. "Even without the bridge, Chaos Servants are using the Fair Lady's webbing to scale the walls of the city. The Princess's Guard is holding, but..."

"But it is a lost cause I know." She admitted with sadness. "The Dark Lord's armies of accelerated their offensive. Darkwraiths have all but taken the west quarter. The Blades have called for reinforcements, but they will not arrive in time to help defend the city."

"Then all we can do now is evacuate Gwyndolin. Has he made the preparations?" Solaire asked.

"That is actually why I came up here. Lord Gwyndolin..." She hesitated to finish her sentence.

"What is it?" Solaire asked, suddenly very worried.

"He's refusing to leave the city." She managed to sputter.

"WHAT?!" Exclaimed Solaire.

"He won't abandon his father's tomb. He says it would bring shame to..."

"His father is gone! Everything his father worked for is gone! If he doesn't leave, he'll be gone too!" Solaire's anger exploded. He turned to one of his subordinates. "You're in charge till I get back. Hold this post, no matter the cost!" He then stormed off down the steps towards the depths below.

"Where are you going?" The Lady called after him. She didn't really need to ask, even if there had been a response from Solaire, she knew what his answer would be. He was going to "illuminate" the Dark Sun Gwyndolin. She prayed for both of them, knowing they would need it, and then turned back to face the bridge. On the path, she noticed an eerie red mist approaching, followed swiftly by a small legion of Chaos Servants and Darkwraiths. As the mist drew closer, it formed around a single individual. A red phantom, which the Lady of the Darkling knew all too well.

Kirk, Knight of Thorns watched as the Warriors of Sunlight readied themselves for battle. He drew his sword and leapt across the chasm that separated them. He fell harmlessly to the ground, but was surrounded by Warriors of Sunlight. Two Darkwraiths swiftly followed his lead as did the Chaos Servants.

"In the name of the Fair Lady, this city will fall!" He cried as he entered the fray of battle with the Darkwraiths. The Lady of the Darkling got down on one knee for a moment, said a short prayer, before charging the Knight of Thorns head on.

She'd have said it was a good day to die, but they were ahead of the game in that department.

* * *

Within the Darkmoon Tomb, Gwyndolin stood in prayer. Tears leaked from beneath his helm as he patted the coffin that ceremonially represented his father.

"You were supposed to protect us, father." He muttered. "How could you let him beat you?" There was a shift in the room, the fog gateway behind him shuddered, and Solaire entered.

"What do you want, Warrior of Sunlight?" He asked angrily. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"My lord..." Solaire started, but then stopped. He decided now was not the time for formalities. "Gwyndolin, we must leave now. The Dark is upon the city, we can no longer protect it. We must flee. Flee to the Painted World of Ariamis."

"I shall not leave human!" Exclaimed Gwyndolin in a tearful fury. "I swore to protect my father's tomb at all costs. I will not abandon my duty!"

Solaire reddened with anger, but then calmed down. His hand, which had clutched his shield until now, moved upwards. He mounted the shield to his back and placed his sword in his hilt.

"Forgive me, but you don't have a choice." He raised his hand as Gwyndolin turned to look at him. Lightning surged through the air as a massive spear was forged into his hand and tossed with great force down the hall of the tomb at Gwyndolin. Seeing the attack coming, he raised his hand and formed a defensive shield. The lightning bounced harmlessly off it like it was a mere rock.

"YOU DARE USE MY FATHER'S ARTS AGAINST ME?!" Gwyndolin sadness and was replaced with a rage that could spark a star. "You defile my father's legacy in his own tomb! For that you will pay dearly!" Gwyndolin teleported across the hall, armed with his magic, as Solaire continued to cast his lightning spears downwind at the god. He raised his sword and shield yet again when the dark sun appeared before him. Solaire charged down the hall at Gwyndolin, while the god moved his hands in strange mannerisms and movements, a faint blue light encircling his palm. As Solaire drew closer, Gwyndolin attacked. Without warning, the faint blue light became a massive sphere, and all Solaire could do was dig in as it came rushing towards him.

Digging in, as it turned out, was the worst thing he could have done. The blast knocked him to the floor and Solaire struggled to get back on his feet. Before he could, the Dark Sun stood above him, his moonlight helm looming ominously.

"You call yourself a Warrior of Sunlight... Pah! If you were a real servant of my father's dreams, you'd respect my wishes and allow me to remain." His voice cracked and his tone was unmistakably furious.

Solaire struggled to even move. "If you stay here, you'll be slaughtered." He declared. The Dark Lord will execute you personally and the light will vanish from the city. Please come with us!"

"If that is the fate of myself and this world, so be it." Gwyndolin said solemnly, his rage subsiding and his normal nature returning. "Go Warrior of Sunlight, take who you can and leave. Tell the Lady of the Darkling..." He hesitated to finish, he seemed to be growing even more somber and broken then when his father had burned. "Give her my thanks... Without here, the Blades of the Darkmoon may never have come this far."

Solaire started to walk away, seemingly satisfied, but the moment Gwyndolin turned around, he spun on his heel and tossed one final Great Lightning Spear at the god, who was unprepared for another attack. It hit him square in the back, a scream of agony sharpening the impact, and he collapsed to the floor. Solaire rushed down the hall to Gwyndolin, felt for a pulse, and was relieved to feel a heartbeat.

"You can tell her yourself, you stubborn fool." He declared. With a great deal of effort and pain he was able to slip Gwyndolin onto his shoulders. With his whole body struggling to support the weight, he pressed forward, legs shaking. Then, as he approached the door, something happened that he could not have anticipated. Silver Knights, the legendary guards of Anor Londo, descended the staircase with lances and axes in hand. They surrounded Solaire, seemingly prepared to kill him, before taking Gwyndolin off his shoulders. The rest, in a surprise that Solaire never expected, bowed to him.

"You are the Champion of Sunlight." Their self-appointed commander bellowed. "We shall follow you."

Solaire, surprised but relieved, nodded. "Very well... Take the Dark Sun to the Painting Guardians. They will ensure your safe passage through to the Painted World of Ariamis. I will go gather the remaining defenders and meet you there." He turned to look at one of the other knights who was standing nearby. "You!" He pointed. "Find your brethren inside the palace, as well as any others who might still be alive and tell them to gather at the painting. Any who isn't there in twelve minutes is being left behind."

"Yes my lord." He said before taking off. The rest of the knights simply stood there for a moment, infuriating Solaire.

"What are you waiting for?! We have to go now! MOVE!" They all followed that order and began to move out, while Solaire raced on ahead back towards the bridge defenders. Hopefully they were holding out.

* * *

Solaire's hopes were not unfounded. So far, the Chaos Servant's and Darkwraiths had yet to break through. However, they were taking their toll on the Warriors of Sunlight who defended the bridge. Five casualties had been inflicted, two of them fatal, while the Knight of Thorns and the Lady of the Darkling battled it out on the top floor. Kirk was a powerful opponent, one to be feared, and he normally defeated all enemies he came into contact with. Unfortunately, he was dealing with someone whose devotion to Gwyndolin nearly matched his own devotion to the Fair Lady.

"You're a talented one." Kirk taunted. "You're soul will go far when I feed it to the Fair Lady." His blade locked with hers moments later. "You should be grateful, it's a noble death, and you'll become one with our grand mistress."

The Lady of the Darkling frowned beneath her helmet. "I'd rather slit my wrists and let my corpse be fed upon by ravenous dogs then join with that abomination." She snarled.

Kirk's rage flew through the roof at that last comment. "Insolent child!" He cried, before using all his force to shatter her blade. The impact shook through her and before she knew how to respond, Kirk had kicked in a wide-arc to knock her off her feet. She crashed into the stone bricks with a sickening crack as blood began to rush out from her mouthpiece. She coughed violently as Kirk placed his boot firmly on her chest and pushed down. The cracking of many ribs and the sound of a punctured lung was quickly followed by screams of unrelenting agony.

"No one defies the Fair Lady. Those that try will feed her hunger!" He exclaimed. His sword was drawn, his anger quite apparent, and just as he was about to drive the blade through the heart of the young woman, Solaire returned. In his hand: A Great Lightning Spear. The next thing the Knight of Thorns knew he was tumbling down a spiral staircase as almost every bone in his undead body cracked and turned to powder. Two Blades of the Darkmoon tended to the Lady of the Darkling as the Silver Knights carried Dark Sun Gwyndolin past. This did not escape the Lady of the Darkling's vision, even if it was blurred.

"I take it that he need some... *cough* persuasion?" She asked, not angry in the slightest.

"Some yes." Solaire replied, a smile under his iron helmet. "Listen, the Blades will take you to the portal. I'll deal with Kirk from here on."

The Lady would have argued, but she wasn't in any position to do so. "All right." She mumbled. "Just make it to the gate before we close it." Solaire nodded, a gesture of promise, before taking off down the stairs after Kirk. When he reached the bottom, he found a trail of blood and bits of Kirk's shattered armor, but not the Knight of Thorns himself. He cautiously raised his shield and sword before turning to follow the trail. It didn't take long to find the end which was a nice surprise. At least, it would have been, had the end not been to a very angry Kirk drinking an Estus Flask.

"You've been a pain in my neck for a long time, Solaire." He said, tossing the flask over the edge of the platform.

"I won't try to convince you to join the righteous path, Kirk, but if you don't retreat you're life will end here." He threatened, trying intimidate the Knight of Thorns

"My life burned out a long time ago, Solaire. You know that." Solaire couldn't see it but his teeth were clinched beneath that helmet. "All that's left is me. Me and my sanity."

"Something tells me you never had that." Solaire mused. This apparently ticked off the Knight of Thorns, who charged Solaire with a fury. He pulled a dagger from his belt to counter the long sword used by Solaire. A suicidal move but an effective one. He took a running roll and staggered Solaire with his spiked armor before driving his knife through Solaire' shoulder. His Sunlight Straight Sword fell to the floor with a thud, leaving Solaire with only his shield. Kirk made a move first, thinking he may have been able to slay the Knight of Sunlight. Except he didn't think through the consequences of trying to kill Solaire. At that moment, a beam of dark magic cut across the open air all the way from the walls of Anor Londo. Kirk felt a brief stinging sensation on the side of his head before dropping dead as the beam pierced his skull. Only his corpse made it's way to Solaire, who stared in disbelief. He followed the faint trail of dark magic back to the wall, then froze.

He was dressed in the armor of the Marvelous Chester, minus the mask and hat, and wielded the blade of Gwyn over his shoulders, except the fires now burned with an eerie black rather then an orange glow. Solaire recognized the familiar face of his old friend and now Dark Lord Cyrus and was struck with terror. Next to the Dark Lord were his lieutenants, two people who remained loyal to him even after his descent into darkness: The Daughter of Chaos Quelana and Laurentius of the Great Swamp.

The gentlemanly coat of the Marvelous Chester did nothing to hide the menace in Cyrus's heart, his sinister intents apparent by the destruction ravaging the city. Solaire readied a Great Lightning Spear in hand, but it dispersed before he had even raised his hand. From a long distance, they shared a glance, then both started moving away. Solaire ran towards the chapel while Cyrus turned his sights elsewhere. He had bigger plans. Saving Solaire wasn't part of them, but even if they now stood as enemies, a part of the Dark Lord couldn't help but feel responsible for his safety. Even if that meant keeping Solaire safe from his own ambitions.

"Stop being sentimental." He muttered to himself, before continuing his descent. A Sentinel stood before them, having helped turn back Darkwraiths until then. It towered above him, the blade of it's halberd almost the size of Cyrus.

It did not matter. With a wave of the Dark Lord's hand, the sentinel fell to the ground dead, killed by a seemingly invisible assailant. Cyrus stepped over the corpse with deliberate casualness. His status as the Dark Lord was not just for show, after all.

* * *

Solaire, on the other hand, was probably going to switch over from Champion of Sunlight to something more along the lines of Duke of the Absolutely Terrified. The sight of his former friend and his ruthless assassination of his own lieutenant was bone chilling, not to mention the fact that he had managed to do that with pinpoint accuracy from over a few hundred yards. That wasn't usually possible. Scratch that, it wasn't possible. Dark Magic, in whatever forms it came in, couldn't hit a target from that distance and even if they could the chances of them actually doing it were astronomical. Cyrus had just done both without breaking a sweat. He knew being the Dark Lord granted him powers, but he hadn't imagined anything like that. Chances were also on the side of that beam being one of his weakest attacks.

"Has he just been toying with us?" Solaire asked himself. It seemed logical, because if he had been able to do that with a simple raising of the hand, then it would take barely a scrap of effort for him to be able to kill everything in Anor Londo, including Gwyndolin. So why hadn't he? What was he trying to do? Solaire's boots hit the marble staircases of Anor Londo like swords hitting a stone wall, then they came to a sudden halt. A thought struck him like sunlight striking a dark corner in the morning.

He wants us to get into the Painted World. He realized, mouthing it airlessly. Priscilla had declared war on the Dark Lord and all he stood for, so why did he want them to get inside? Then he realized something, something he should have noticed earlier. Quelana, the Daugther of Chaos in her Gold-Hemmed Black Robes, had been holding a weapon in her hands. At first, he hadn't been able to tell what it was, but with hindsight he knew. It was a Lifehunt Scythe.

"Oh no." He whispered. He took off like a bullet out the barrel of a gun as he ran towards the chapel, finally seeing the Dark Lord's deception. He leapt from the annex and onto the chapel, taking a quick swig of his Estus Flask before entering.

Inside there was nothing but untold bedlam. The Painting Guardians were battling the Darkwraiths in the rafters of the building, while Gravelord Servants unleashed death on the knights below. He could see them trying to get Gwyndolin through the painting that served as the entrance to the Painted World, but Solaire knew where that would end.

"Don't do it!" He yelled from the rafters. "It's a trap!" He screamed and screamed at the top of his lungs until his vocal cords were sore and all the air was lost from his lungs. Tears rolled from his face as he realized he would not succeed. It was all for nothing. No one heard him. His voice was lost amidst the sound of steel crashing against steel and the cries of dying men. The Silver Knights, unaware of their champions presence, pushed the Dark Sun into the portal, only to be met with shock. The Painting suddenly caught fire, every single inch of it. The massive portrait of the painted world began to burn, bringing the rafters of the giant chapel down around them. The Guardians, paralyzed by fear, fell with the Darkwraiths. Their bodies hit the floor and splattered like a tomato being thrown against a brick wall. The Darkwraiths simply dissolved into red mist, returning to the Abyss from which they crawled out of.

Solaire watched in horror as the knights and Gravelord Servants died as the debris came crashing down on them and the roof caved in. He would have been crushed too had he not found a safe little nook to hide in while the building came undone. The fifty foot tall chapel was now nothing but a pile of rubble in the graveyard of Anor Londo. Then, as Solaire picked himself up from the ruins and took a look around, his heart sank further then ever. Outside a shattered window, he watched the sunlight fade away, the illusion Gwyndolin cast on the city disappearing and revealing nothing but the darkness of twilight.

Anor Londo, city bathed in sunlight, was now dark. The sun disappeared and nothing but the shadows remained. The Dark had claimed the city.

Solaire limped over across a less a damaged walkway to inspect the full scope of the damage, choosing to take the time to escape rather then mourn. The armies of the Chaos Servants and Gravelords who remained returned to their own worlds to spread the Dark there, leaving only three lone figures on the bridge. The same three Solaire had seen on the steps before.

The Dark Lord and his lieutenants.

They didn't see him, much to his relief, and simply progressed towards Gwyn's former keep. No doubt so that Cyrus could take it as his own. Solaire looked away from the sight as they advanced up the steps towards the Keep, only to find something even more horrendous. The Painting which had caught fire still stood, barely, but the image had changed. Instead of the Painted World in tranquil peace, it showed the entire landscape engulfed in a great firestorm. The Warriors of Sunlight, the Blades of the Darkmoon, and the Princess Guard all lay dead, their crumbled bodies being trodden over by demons. Crossbreed Priscilla lay dead in her tower and in her place was large menacing figure holding a large sword. He resembled Nito the Gravelord, except this one was a solidly built giant as opposed to Nito's body of skeletons and corpses. Solaire did not recognize it, but at his feet lay the crumbled remains of Gwyndolin and Pricilla, so that was enough for him to know that creature was his enemy.

_They're all my enemies. _He thought. With that in mind, any sentiment or fond memories of his friend Cyrus died, and a hatred burned in his heart. A hatred that would become his sun. Whatever it took, he promised he'd avenge his friends. He'd make the Dark Lord pay.


End file.
